Abyss Express

Chapter 816: Arrows are more powerful than guns

[Part①·Life hanging by a thread]

"Die! Vincent!"

The Collector has no intention of continuing to produce works of art. Even if the big boss wants him to capture them alive, he can't continue to carry out the order - the destructive power displayed by Wen Bucai's spirit has far exceeded the Collector's expectations.

Turbulent tongues of fire spewed out from the muzzle of the perfume bottle, and the two triggers fired simultaneously. The two bullets went straight to Wen Bucai's head at a very short interval!

Wen Bucai's eyes were still blurred, deeply trapped in the hallucination caused by the paralyzing toxin, and his reaction was slow. His hands and feet were tied tightly with hemp rope.

The first bullet hit the side of his face, and was crushed into pieces by [Drunken Maniac]'s palms.

The second bullet was slightly late and hit the center of the eyebrow!

Wen Bucai's neck will be broken! He looked up at the sky, bone fragments and blood splattered between his brows!

"Vincent!——" David Victor was in disbelief, and the puppet's stiff face showed an expression of anxiety and irritability!

The looming alcoholic spirit body will lose power at any time, and the weak body cannot support the same weak spirit - the power of the soul is hidden in Wen Bucai's skin, and it is difficult to fully digest the kinetic energy of this bullet!

Vincent's life was almost hanging by a thread. The lead bullet pierced his skull and opened a part of the gap. The cerebral fluid that maintained the cranial pressure was slowly draining away, and his mouth and nose were covered with blood.

"The effect is good!" The collector took out new ammunition from his cuffs and loaded the perfume bottle with thunder. "How long can your soul power last? Vincent? In this state! Maybe just one more shot."

"My soul! Help! Please help! Please!" Jack Martin screamed. He could barely feel the existence of his hands and feet. After being turned into a "collection" by the collector, his body was also in a mess - —I have long since lost the strength to fight back.

David Victor's psychic power also faced this problem. After he turned into a puppet, he could hardly force his soul power to leave his body.

Who can save him? ! Who can come to save him?

"Bang!--"

The second gunshot sounded like Death's scythe hitting the wrong place.

Wen Bucai struggled and could barely lift his right hand. Two bullets penetrated his arm, shattered the humerus and forearm, and passed out from the elbow. The fragments and bullets shot into his slightly deflected cheek and penetrated through the masseter muscle of the mandible. !

Blood! There's blood all over the floor!

The extremely cruel execution also made Jack Martin's inner fear more and more intense——

——This is what happens when you fight against a perfume bottle. Good fairy tales don't seem to happen!

Vincent was like a dog, being tortured and slowly being shot to death!

"It's so troublesome!" The collector continued to fill the mercury fulminant bullets, and the dirty blood splashed from the prisoner's body flew to his face - the grip of the gun was slippery, hoping it would not affect the burning of the gunpowder.

"Hoo"

"ha"

"Hoo"

Wen Bucai's breathing sounded like a lamb struggling to survive with its neck cut open and its trachea cut off.

There was no will to survive or anger in his eyes, only darkness. The toxins were still affecting his senses, and he couldn't even feel much pain.

The muzzle of the gun is pointed at this unruly "beast" again, and the collector must continue to pull the trigger.

A rope and stone rope flew from the sky and deflected the muzzle of the perfume bottle!

At this moment, the glass bottle holding Victor was smashed to pieces. He reluctantly crawled out. The little doll looked around and towards the weak light source at the entrance of the cellar - there was an uninvited guest! Suddenly appeared in the dark cage!

"Someone is helping us!" Jack Martin bounced hard, trying to shake the frame and jump off the wine cellar counter. "Teacher Victor! Someone is helping us!"

David Victor: "Who is that?!"

The faint light filtering through the crack in the hotel door illuminated the stranger's profile.

He looked forty-five years old. He was wearing an ordinary farmer's brown shirt and overalls. He had a particularly big hat. His black hair covered most of his face. His long and thin eyes were hidden in the brim of the hat and hair. His neck and face were all dark. It's red.

"It's an Indian!" Little Jack recognized it at a glance, and there was no mistaking it - this guy's head could be exchanged for eight dollars at the state government!

The collector was caught off guard and pulled the trigger in a panic. The gun was pointed to the side of the wine cellar and it was impossible to recalibrate it.

The bullet penetrated the barrel and there was an explosion in the cellar!

Fortunately, there wasn't much oxygen left in the cellar, so the fireball only burned everyone's mouths and noses and dissipated immediately.

The Collector quickly turned back to deal with the new enemy! He had no idea where this mysterious man came from!

Indian? Why? Do these three guys have any accomplices?

The thin oxygen made the collector dizzy. The mysterious man who took advantage of the vent drew his strong bow and shot a sharp arrow in the darkness!

The crab spirit emerged from the Collector's heart, trying to block the flying arrow's hidden weapon, but the arrow penetrated it!

The sheep tendon bowstring made a sound, and the penetrating power of the arrow penetrated the chest and back of the demon doll, and the lapel was suddenly dyed red with blood! Revealing the miserable face of the dwarf monster spitting out blood!

"What the hell are you doing."

He also wanted to take Lady White's products from the golem's breast pocket to heal his wounds, but the tall Indian warrior crushed his head under his feet!

"Kacha!——"

His head was shattered, his bones were shattered, and he could no longer die!

As the body dies, the spiritual energy of [Black Mass·Black Mass] also dissipates——

——Jack Martin fell off the wine cellar counter and returned to his normal physical body. The beauty of Victor's demon doll no longer exists. He is a weed that grows when the wind blows, and instantly transforms into his original form.

Fifteen or sixteen figures jumped out from the collector's clothes. They stepped on and squeezed each other, and then fell down together.

There are only a few living people left. Although Boss Jerrys has recovered his true form, his stomach is completely eaten by Mrs. White's larvae.

Mrs. Stella was holding Boy Bill, and the two black shop family members were also in shock, and their bodies were covered with wounds gnawed by insects.

Among the dead bodies on the ground, the Indian man found the collector's boots and took a meaningful look at them.

David Victor's mental power came to an end, and Jack Martin was so frightened by the sight of a river of blood flowing from hell on earth that he fainted on the spot.

Vincent was still struggling on the edge of life and death, but he became the most sober one.

In a hazy state of consciousness, he felt his body being dragged to the first floor and then to a mud patch outside the hotel. Someone gave him medicine, and the wounds on his body began to feel numb and itchy.

I don’t know how long has passed——

——When the sun rose again, it was already the fourth day.

[Part②·Black Hawk’s youngest son]

"I am the war chief of the Sauk tribe, the youngest son of the leader of the Black Eagle tribe."

A bucket of milk was poured on Vincent's face, and the Indian men woke them up one by one.

"You can call me Keopup-Kio."

In the shelter of the rock platform, in a cave depression, the Indian took off his big sun hat, revealing a fiery red hair ornament and a head of black hair - there were already a lot of white hairs in this dark hair. .

His face was haggard. After waking up the three young men, he had been holding wood for carving.

Victor and Jack were both tied up by Keogh, except for Wen Cai, who seemed to have a deep hatred for white people.

His longbow was not loosened, and he was always in a state of battle readiness, standing at the downwind of the camp.

Wen Bucai's body was still in severe pain. His arm was almost penetrated by the bullet from the perfume bottle. The wound between his eyebrows seemed to have just healed, and his head was concussed. He reluctantly crawled to the edge of the cave and took out everything in his stomach. Spit it out!

"Let my friends go"

A hoarse voice came from his throat. As Wen Bucai spoke, he staggered towards David.

Mr. Keogh stretched out his leg a little and tripped the impudent Oriental——

"——What are you going to do?"

Wen Bucai fell down and broke two of his teeth!

His eyes were red, and he immediately got up and wanted to do something!

David Victor had linen stuffed in his mouth and couldn't speak, but he hooked Vincent's ankle hard and asked him to calm down! Ask him not to be so anxious!

"Kio." Vincent came back to his senses and asked quickly: "You saved us? Why did you save us?"

He took three stone bowls from beside the fire, containing some rice mixed with grains and mutton.

Chiopup held out his hands and took the food solemnly, showing off his talent. The sun was just rising over the rip on the other side of the Colorado River Valley.

In any case, it was this red-skinned Indian who saved the lives of the three brothers.

It was Chiopup who changed their fate——

——The hair ornament on the head of this warrior is engraved with the pattern of an eagle, which represents courage. The wood carving in his hand is the feathered serpent god worshiped by the Mayans.

Keogh speaks fluent English and doesn't look like some primitive cannibal.

"It's not me who saved you, but Kukulkan's will."

The warrior began to talk about fairy tales.

"I alone cannot defeat the crab demon who manipulates the puppet. Kukulkan told me in his dream that there will be three warriors to weaken the demon's power."

"One of the warriors disguised himself as a woman, and his beauty could enchant the hearts of demons."

“When another warrior opens his mouth to insult the demon, the demon loses its mind.”

"The last warrior's sword makes the demons shrink back in fear. This is a good opportunity to shoot a sharp arrow. Don't miss it."

Keogh said confidently, picking up the collector's boots.

"These are the wills conveyed to me by Kukulkan, asking me to take revenge."

Wen Bucai: "Revenge?"

"Eight years ago, my daughter, together with War Chief Suok, embarked on the road to seek peace with the Baiyun tribe leader, War Chief Wobokisilk."

"We agreed to the colonists' request and sought a path to peace. There are more than two hundred holy speakers in Rock River. They are prophets. Like me, they can hear the guidance of Kukulkan or other great gods."

"I have known for a long time that these barbaric invaders will not give up so easily, but the opinions of the Holy Speakers are difficult to unify. There are only two choices, surrender or make peace."

"I can't accept it. I left Prophet Town and the Black Eagle Tribe and became a wanderer."

"Eight years later, there has been no surrender or peace, only genocide and genocide, and my daughter has turned into a pair of boots."

"I wanted to take revenge, but Kukulkan told me that I was no match for this evil spirit. A gun is stronger than an arrow, and a gun is stronger than an arrow."

Mr. Keogh looked excited and threw the pair of human leather boots into the fire, asking his daughter to return to the embrace of nature.

"I did not save you, but Kukulkan saved you - I am Kukulkan's messenger and must carry out God's will."

In the dark cellar, the collector was tired of dealing with the power of Wen Bucai. He loaded his gun repeatedly and concentrated on executing the execution procedure.

Chiopup, who had been following the Collector and living with him in the same hotel, finally found his chance.

"I woke up when I heard gunshots." Keogh said frankly: "I finally understood that the time has come. The three warriors Kukulkan mentioned are finally here."

Taking the flying stone rope and bow and arrow, he followed him all the way to the wine cellar, and then he found the opportunity to take revenge.

"It's you who help me, not me who helps you."

Wen Bucai does not believe in God, and it is difficult for him to understand Mr. Keogh's sense of ritual, but the result is good. This Indian warrior relied on the will of the Quetzalcoatl god to avoid annihilation, and was attracted by fate to reunite with them.

"Can you let go of my friends? Let them go?"

Chiopup looked serious and a little disgusted——

"—Untie them yourself, Oriental."

With that said, he threw a carving knife towards Wen Bucai.

When Jack Martin and David Victor regained their freedom, the three brothers, who were covered in injuries and strains, finally realized that they had indeed turned over, walked around the Palace of Hell, and came back alive.

They eat with stone bowls in hand to replenish their strength. Wen Bucai still felt numbness in his right arm. The bullet tore most of the muscles in the forearm of the humerus. The blood clot in this part was not properly treated, and the broken bone soon turned into a joint sarcoma. It was difficult to pull his arm, and he was not as dexterous as before when he wanted to punch and use a gun.

"There are still evil spirits hiding in your body." Keo stretched out his hand to hold Wen Bucai's arm.

Wen Bucai did not resist——

—The engraving knife became an exquisite scalpel in Keogh's hands.

It made sixteen bloody incisions along the skin texture of the nodule and picked out all the bone fragments and polyps inside.

Jack Martin was dizzy, and David Victor's eyes were shining.

"So talented!"

Finally, close to the tendons of the elbow, Mr. Keogh hung out a plump meat worm from the hook of the tip of the knife.

Wen Bucai's expression changed drastically. This was also a bug in the collector's clothes!

"It's an aquila's egg," Keopup murmured in a low voice, "It can kill people, and it can also save lives."

Seeing the scorching sunshine, the white lady flesh insect immediately rolled and struggled, quickly wrapped its body with silk, and turned into a bright red morpho butterfly in the blink of an eye!

It flapped its wings and could not fly very far before turning into scattered dregs and powder, turning into a cloud of dust.

"What on earth is this?" Wen Bucai was scared and angry: "What on earth is the big boss of the perfume bottle looking for?"

[Real name: Jokic Adriano]

[Current name: Collector]

[Origin: A painter from the imperial court of Tsarist Russia who once painted portraits for Alexander I. In a sensitive period when camera technology had just become popular, in order to compete with technology, the artist began to use human skin and blood to create artworks. Exactly in 1825, Alexander I passed away. The court painter lost his protective umbrella and was criticized verbally and written. He committed a series of murders and eventually came to light. In a panic, he fled to the American continent to find a new livelihood. The big boss took him in and used him as an executioner to deal with prisoners and a dockworker to transport slaves. Give Jokic the [arrow] superpower. This abominable dwarf had a new puppet identity and left behind many "lifelike" works. He later led the hired servant Ferdinand of the "Franciscan Little Brotherhood", which was Lawrence Madison's treasury. The housekeeper also tried to imitate and use this form to make up for the congenital deformity of his short body. ]

[Soul Power: Black Mass·Black Mass]

[Destructive power: C]

[Speed: A]

[Range Distance: B]

[Sustainability: A]

[Precision: A]

[Growth: D]

[Special ability·Rare treasures: Whether they are living or dead objects, they can be made into rare collections that are easy to carry. It exudes a charming artistic atmosphere. The targets attacked by the soul power can no longer effectively resist. Their The limbs of the body are fragile and the strength will be reduced. If the will is not strong enough, it will become a hanging accessory, a dead gold and silver object that cannot speak or move. ]

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